LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap. -._-.... Copyright No. 

Shelt.S..(o.Co M^ 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 









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BnJ> ©tber Vcxscs 



Bertram Xincoln Sbaplefgb 



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' 6'f^c^ harmony is in immortal souls 
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
Doth grossly close it in^ we cannot hear it,'' 



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Copyright 1896. 
Bertram Lincoln Shapleigh. 






In Preparation : 

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Page 
" The Music of the Spheres "... 7^47 

Parti. The Meeting .... 7 

Part %. The Vale of Tysus . . .21 
Part 3. The Return • • • • 33 

The Quest of the Beautiful . . . . 49 



"VkQ ]du^i6 of tl\e gf^l\efe^.'' 

JPART /. 

The Meeting. 

Back in the early days, when the soft airs 
The great god Pan had piped were not forgotten, 
When reeds taught music to the charmed ear 
And all the wealth of sound was pure and new 
As infant in man's heart ; back in the days, 
When every maid was wooed with silver strains 
Of pleading flute, and answered to the suit 
In golden harp chords, when the air of Greece 
Breathed with the unborn race of later gods ; 
Back in the distant marvel age of earth. 
When man beheld the world as very fair, 
And loved to lay his breast on nature's breast 
And learn of her. In that far distant age 



There lived a youth born in the sunny wilds 

Of woody wildernesses. Here he came 

To early manhood learning as he grew 

The secrets that lie deep in nature's heart 

And which she grants to those who dwell with her. 

He came and went throughout his woody home 

Companioned with its beasts and birds, and oft 

Those wondrous people who inhabited 

The woods and streams or dwelt up in the hills, 

And beings whom man's eye hath seldom seen, 

Came forth to consort with him. In this way 

He with the spirit of the ancient Pan 
Had long dwelt conning all of music's art 
And from the old god many things he learned 
And many secrets which throughout the world 
No man now knows and few could understand. 
From out a reed cut from the forest growth 
He fashioned him a pipe like to that brought 
Into the world by Hermes who had taught 



The old Egpytians how to make the Nile 
Soft and sweet with music. 

Note by note 
Our youth cut out the frets until he reached 
The octave where sound doubles on itself 
And is complete. He learnt what secrets lay 
Concealed within his art, and how the scale 
Explains the universe and dwells concealed 
In every soul. 

Companioned by his flute 
He went his way through wood and over mount. 
By day he tuned his melodies to play 
The call of birds, the laugh of merry streams, 
The stir of woody ways, the startling gleams 
Of sunlight tumbling down all through the green ; 
And every happy thing that joyed in life 
Found echos in his playing. 



Then at night 
He purled his notes forth to the moon and stars, 
And to the spirit of the universe, 
And to the presence of the unseen gods. 
By day he wove his strains from five clear notes, 
At night two more crept in, — the two that sound 
Only to ears that have grown wise to hear, — 
The two that may not sound in all the world. 

From town to town he went and taught the dance, 
And taught the songs of water nymphs and niads, 
The carollings of Bacchus and the chants 
That afterwards became the mighty hymns 
Heard in Olympus. Then ofttimes he'd play 
What human hearts in these our later days 
Conceal so well. 

And those who heard him sat 
Wrapt in the spell of hearing till they found 



10 



Springing to music, leaping into sound, 

What they had treasured in their hearts for years. 

And their sweet secret melted into tears. 

One day, when tired Phoebus homeward drove 

His fiery steeds down the steep western sky 

Into the thunder palace rising stern 

And mighty all along the water's edge, 

Our hero sat piping a merry glee 

To tune the flying feet of dancing maids 

Who tripped the jocund vintage hours along. 

All through the golden locks the autumn light 
Played games of forfeit where the smile kissed smile 
Then hid itself away for fear it might 
Have blushed through all its burnished gold ere 

while. 
And when he ceased to breathe upon the flute 
It seemed the music still played o'er his face 

11 



And ran to eddying dimples, while his mute 
Unspeaking voice in his clear eyes found place. 
Many a wreath and garland had been strung 
For him, and many maidens fair and young 
Had crowned him Prince Apollo, — many eyes 
Amourously tender lit the ecstacies 
Of his outpouring song. His pleading flute 
Had taught a sad key to full many a lute 
That virgin fingers plucked at in the groves, 
And his soft playing mingled with the loves 
Of clustering songsters carolling aloft 
In mists of perfume, where so warm and soft 
The breeze woos out the sweetness of the flowers. 

Thus as he sat and poured his melody 
Upon the throbbing air, the sun went down. 
The stars one at a time unclosed their eyes 
And set their watch, but ere the first appeared 
Two star bright eyes lit through the twilight hour 

12 



And told their portent clearer than had e'er 
Come omen from revolving orbs on high. 

Those maiden orbs revolved about his soul 

And beamed down love from its meridian. 
****** 

Stars on stars above, 
Stars on stars below 
In lake and rivulet reflect their light ; 
Yonder is love of love, 
Here we only know 
Reflected love as day reflects the night. 

Stars burn deep in the sky, 
Stars burn deep in the sea, 
Higher than we may reach, deeper than we may feel ; 
Love though ever so high 
Ever so low must be, — 
Free to the grasp of our strength, bound by no zeal. 



13 



So played he on and wove the magic woof 

Of night,and heaven, and earth, and love, and sound, 

Wove himself into the magic mesh, 

And wove it to the pattern of a song 

Those eyes inspired, — and he wound it round 

About her soul, until the night, and heav'n. 

And earth, and love, and sound became alive 

And lived in her as all things live in love 

And have a body in the object loved. 

Each of her senses answered to the call 
Of liquid lulling notes that in their fall 
Shimmered in seas of color. Slow her will 
Clasped in its arms with an ecstatic thrill 
The joy of love. Then like the gentle play 
Of apple blossoms on the breast of May, 
There came a hovering fragrance and the touch 
Of spirit tenders that would open such 
A world beyond life's idle, wasteful stir. 



U 



Her five low senses slumbered, yet there were 

Two others making, two that see and hear 

The soul of what the rest are grasping at ; 

The two that touch with truth and hold the power 

Of sending a prompting from within when comes 

A gleam of truth along the other five. 

So lay she listening to him as he played, 

Listening in the way that love would list 

To love that was not spoken, so she wist 

Of music which he felt but could not play. 

For human ears to hear in human way. 

And she made answer in the same strange way 

Love has of giving answer unto love. 

The notes pearled forth like drops of molten dew 
That had been tears before some angels kiss 
Had turned them into music, soft they came 
Seeking the answer love alone could give. 
And when his music ceased she sprung to him, 

16 



And threw her arms about his neck and hung 

Devouring his presence, each fond glance 

Linked in the others, while four lips, love dumb, 

Lacking a word, resolved themselves in one. 

Then drawing back as though to mark the man 

In his entire wholeness, and to view 

The form and features of the one she loved. 

She let her words leap forth as fountains spring 

Over a mountain turret, coming down 

With bridal veil of mist and jewels bright 

And with a rainbow girdle at its zone. 

Her rich, sweet voice gave forth its sparkling words 

Like rapture light that leapt from out her eye. 

" O, love ! what are these melodies thou play'st 
That others may not play, how may'st thou tune 
Thy flute to touch two notes that never sound 
With other's playing? See, 'tis like our love 
Which holds the earth and earth-made pleasure in't 

16 



And something somewhat higher, like two notes 
That none but us may know, two notes that hold 
The power of resolving all the rest/* 
He took her hands and drew her down again 
And asked her how she heard him play these notes 
She had not known before, for it is oft 
As great to have the power to behold 
As 'tis to have the skill to give it out. 

** How do I hear? How do I know these notes? 

They pierce me like the glowing of thine eyes 

Like sob of sorrow and the smile of joy ; 

Or like the pang of grief and thrill of love ; — 

And when I stop to listen they are gone 

And thou hast wandered on to other keys.'' 

He answered, ^* Loved one, thou hast let two notes 
Creep to thine ear that others have not known, 
Thy love hath wooed a heavenly echo forth 

17 



From out the melody that sprang from earth, 
Thou hearest what thou hast not heard before 
In other's playing — for no instrument 
Can give them forth, as no man's finger yet 
Hath found the fret that can provoke the sound 
Thine ear hath caught. No, nor can I command 
This poor pipe which I hold to bring them forth, — 
They had not sounded for another's ear. 
They are the silent tones which none may hear, 
That none may play save in their soul of souls ; 
They hold the secret of the scale concealed 
Within themselves, as life and death contain 
The secret of the universe we see 
And will not give it up to man till he 
Shall hear the seven harmonies that play 
Through all the spheres » 

Five keys my fingers know. 
That is the scale the gods allow to us. 
Who mounts to seven sees somewhat beyond, 

18 



And by the aid of them should understand 
The language of the gods, for grief and love 
Are not more powerful than these two notes 
When rightly found and heard in silent way. 
Thy soul hath clasped the form of my own soul ; 
The music of my life rings in thy life ; 
Joy and sorrow in a molten stream 
Flow to the mould of love. 

Thou here hast heard 
The music of the soul which sings within, 
Where all things are resolved in perfect bliss, 
And where I place thee as my spirits bride." 
And then she knew that she had found in him. 
By some deep way, what others might not find. 
And she went forth with him, and as he played, 
His music wove the hours of many days 
Into the woof and texture of their love. 
And as he tuned his secrets on his flute 
She answered by response from eye and lip. 

19 



The fleet winged months flew by, and she with him 
Wandered afar throughout that mystic land, 
Which was to be the playground of the gods 
When they should leave their cradle in the east. 
O'er many wooded mounts they took their way, 
And rested 'neath thick roofs of Clustering vine; — 
The mount would be a gods abode someday, 
And where they sate would rise a wayside shrine. 
The path their steps found out would someday lead 
The pilgrim on his quest with shoeless foot, 
The conqueror upon his prancing steed, 
Or some lone minstrel wand'ring with his lute. 

They sought the vale of Tysus where there dwelt 
An ancient hermit who was known afar 
As great and good. In his lone habitude 
The twain would seek to share his company 
And let his wisdom sanctify their love. 



20 



PART IL 

The Vale of Tysus. 

* Twas evening in the valley when they came 

Over the uplands, down across the fields. 

The great trees stretched their shadows out as 

though 
Their spirits had crept forth to gently reach 
Over the flowering turf to close the day 
With benediction. Then the sun went down, 
And like a mighty bomb that bursts and sends 
Its fiery fragments through the air, so now 
Through all the sky there shot long streams of gold, 
And soft hued surfaces sailed high, begemed 
And fringed with flaming brilliance. 

Here it seemed 
The rapture of the dawn blushed forth again 

21 



And cheek and cheek of night and day lay close 
Burning and blushing, holding near again 
What morning took away. Through the half glow 
Of twilight, silent raptures sped to man. 
Leaving the earth and sky to find his heart 
And lay their beauties cradled in his breast. 

One silent palm against the wide blue sky, 
The new and nacent moon, and one star under, 
Long deep stretch of ancient woods, that lie 
Like some great sleeping army stored with plunder. 
The damp sweet smell of the evening's hush, 
The rich smell of damp and the cool peaceful pause, 
In the west the firebrand's kindling flush 
At the funeral pyre of the day that was. 

Her throne on earth, 
Her coronal on high. 

The mother-queen of night 
Is drawing nigh 

22 



Inveloped in the robes the silent earth 

At dew-fall wears, 
Half tints, soft hanging o'er the hearth 

Of day, and pairs 
Of star beams looping up the many folds 

Of her prophetic garments dimly hued, 
With just the spirit that the flower holds 

Deep in its color, which the twilight wooed 
To blend with all the tender shades that lay 
In its soft music which no pipe could play* 

Afar the night takes stand — 

Womanly grand. 

Looking how far, how far, 

From earth to star 

With its deep virgin blue ; 

Kissing to sleep the eyes 
Of tired and true 

Virgin mother wise. 

23 



Down in the valley at its farthest end, 

Some stern revolt in nature had thrown down 

A lofty clifif, and piled the mammoth rock 

Against a brother clifif, and round them grew 

Large, ancient trees, that held the boulders back 

From rolling down the incline to the brook 

That found its way by many secret turns 

Across the valley. Here amid the rocks 

High piled, an entrance led into a cave, 

Wide and capacious, running back into 

The mountain body. Here the revVend sage 

Had his abode. Here years had grown him to 

A harmony with rock, and field, and wood. 

So that he seemed their voice, and spoke in tones 

As pure and simple as the mountain's brook 

Tells to the flowers gathered on its banks 

Of mountain glories, and the heights above, 

Or as the ancient forest trees bend down 

And hold soft converse with the springing shrub. 

24 



Here with this man the twain let pass their days, 
And love grew full beneath the holy shade 
Of such a presence. And on one great night 
When all the heavens spread themselves o*er earth 
With such resplendance that it seemed the hour 
Would force the meadow flowers to awake 
And throw their petals open to the stars, 

They wedded, and the holy, soft-breathed vows 
Of their united souls, fell on the air 
Like some star-perfume dropped by spirit hand. 
The evening breezes wooed it o'er the fields 
And down into the trembling stillness of 
The valley, where the little brook run on 
As promise that all else would wake again. 
And know what had passed near them in their 
dreams. 

The year rolled round, still o'er the sacred vale 
The wondrous flute notes fell, still through the air 

25 



The words of love were wafted too and fro. 
But she had found some want, and in her face 
There grew a wistful look, as though the soul 
Quested some treasure, doubtful where it be. 
She had no speech to say what she would say. 
She did not name her loss, for she knew not 
The meaning of it nor ,yet how it went. 
Days passed until she could no longer bide 
In silence — now must she confess her woe. 

Softly she came, and kneeling down by him 
Sought his kind look through eyes that had grown 

dim 
With tears. How could she tell to him the truth? 
How would he answer? Then she took his hand 
Held it in hers until he felt the thought 
Of trouble in her. Bending low he laid 
A kiss upon her brow, and bade her speak 
And tell him of her grievance. Then she bowed 



26 



Her head upon his knee, — looked up again 
Into his clear bright face and said, 

''My dear. 
There are two notes I can no longer hear, 
Thy strain seems dull, thy song all incomplete ; 
Thy flute speaks not such things as once I heard. 
I listen, listen, and the farther off 
Seems every strain to go that once did throw 
A magic chain about me, held me fast 
Unto the sweet notes as a part of thee. 
Now you play up and down and mark the scale 
Of silver notes with gentle rhythms, but there,—- 
There is its ending, and strain as I will, 
I cannot reach to hear the charmed strain 
Thou once gav^st out to me; and in my heart 
I feel in losing this there lies some hint 
That I have also lost some part of thee. 
Dearest, take up thy pipe and play for me 
The music of our meeting hour again/' 

27 



Over his youthful face there came the calm, 
Soft hand of resignation, plucking out 
The tender bloom, and leaving in its stead 
The tranquil sorrow love-loss ever knows. 
Such blanched pallor as spreads o'er the man, 
Who, flying to the bosom of his bride 
Presses his lips on hers, but finds that death 
Has kissed her first. 

Slowly he raised the pipe 
And slowly, softly crept the soundings forth. 

First played he as he did the hour he came 
Across the mountains to the valley where 
He first had met her, then he piped the same 
Gay, tripping measures and the same bright airs 
That set the beatings of the dance apace, — 
That vintage hour in the autumn hght. 

Then came the melodies that he had spun 
That evening as they first gave eyes to eyes, 

28 



And voice to voice, and lips to lips, such-wise 
As lovers do in their first ecstacies, — 
At length 'twas done. But no, she had not heard 
What he had played as he had played them then. 
Merry and sweet they were, these tunes of his. 
But lacking, O, so much they once possessed. 

He took her in his arms and gently said : 
*' It was by those two notes I wedded thee 
Because thou had'st an ear and heard in this. 
My playing, what no other ever heard, 
I knew thou hadst the power to also know 
The corresponding soundings in my soul, — 
And this it was that linked us man and wife. 
Thou cans't not hear these notes ; some veil has 

flung 
Its folds about thy sight, and now no more 
Thou knowest me." 
Silent they sat, no word 



Could dare find voice, at last he took her hand 
And holding the fair fingers tried to smile, 
And then went out," — leaving the flute behind. 

Left alone she threw herself upon 

The current of her tears, and let them lead 

The way to consolation. Starting up, 

She called his name aloud. He could not hear, — - 

The wood birds and the mountain wonders now 

Engrossed his soul. The wood-gods marked his way ; 

The strange companions of his childhood's days 

Whispered about him as he passed them by ; 

Many a sorcery of nature sought 

To win him back to consorts of the past 

Where he roamed free among the mystic folk. 

A year had passed. Still dwelt she in the vale. 
The sage consoled her,'- — tended her so much 
As she had needs. 
Her wave of sorrow now 

ao 



Was crested with a joy and she had smiled, — 

As stricken brides may smile upon their child. 

Her child she held — her child — the joy that came 

To slay forgetfulness of other joys 

That had been hers with all their sweet delights. 

And in the child she found a unity 

Of life and death, of rapture and of pain, — 

It was love's little self born to the world, 

The child of joy and pain as love must be. 

Hanging upon her neck by chubby arms 
To hold her low and tender to love's self. 
As love must teach to soar and yet to bend, 
And not forget how wisdom lieth low, 
And near the heart of things. 

Thus as she sat. 
She idly took the pipe that once she'd heard 
Pleading its master's love, when he had come 
And found her in that golden vintage time. 

31 



She took it up and fingering o'er the keys 
Gave breath to it, and wooed the silver tones 
To sound for her. 

Now note by note she found 
The leadings to some little melody, 
That pleased her in the finding, and the babe 
Looked up, and wondered at the plaintive tune 
She voiced thereon. Then came the ancient one, 
And smiled to hear the beauties she had found 
Untutored on the flute that had been still 
So many days. 



32 



PART III. 

The Return. 
But how had fared our youth? 
Where had he wandered, and what other joys 
Had held him far from where his joy had died? 
Far had his path led on, until he reached 
The busy mart of human trade, and there 
He mixed with those who came and those who went, 
And sought to find what happiness in man 
Caused him to value life. Yet where he went 
There came no one who wore the word content 
Upon his brow. He heard the poets read 
How woman was the glory of the man, 
And though the earth were lost and she were gained 
As his eternal prize, the loss were well. 
The having all complete. Yet he met not 
The man who had so found his total want 
In woman's love repaid. 

33 



Among the priests 
He went to hear the wisdom of the east, 
And questioned them of love, and if man found 
On earth such answer from another soul 
As would content him from all other want. 
And they explained how when two souls shall meet 
Whom God intendeth shall be one in love, 
They blend, and make the broken arch complete. 
How woman is the answer to the man ; 
How he is but a symbol in the half. 
Requiring her who shall fill up the sign 
And make it read at once from first to last, 
A perfect thing. She answers as the rhyme 
To ev'ry act of his. So they grow one 
By blending, mixing, fusing, setting forth 
Alone such difference as is revealed 
In rhyme and rhyme, or as we may behold 
In word and tone, in silence and in sound. 
For music is the smile which silence bears 

34 



Upon its sweet calm features, when its heart 

It rapture stirred. So woman is the light 

And music of man's life when in his heart 

Love wakeneth. Alike in complement 

That fills the round each had begun alone, 

But which alone they never could surround. 

One to reflect the other so that each 

May see self plainer in the complement. 

But few attain to find this truth of love, 

They lose each other in the happiness 

That follows meeting, there they soon forget 

To search those depths that love hath led them to. 

If they would hold the glory of their love, 

It must have more than its own happiness 

To live upon.'' 

Some wisdom moved him here. 
Their words awoke a little sense of guilt, 
As though perchance the fault were not all her's ; 
Perhaps she understood as much in him 

35 



As he did of himself, and had he stayed 

He might have led her back to knowledge of 

What he had deemed she would perceive no more. 

At this he was determined to return. 

He would go back to her and try again 

If she could not perceive what once she did. 

He'd play again upon that pipe for her 

And surely she would some way find it out, — 

All this that she had failed to grasp of him ; 

Yes, she would know him now as he returned 

As he would fain be known, something would be 

In her that now would hear as ne'er before 

What he should sound within, and ask her soul 

To set the perfect harmony thereto. 

Thus thinking, and with ev'ry hope at heart. 

He found his way back through the mountain heights 

To the lone vale with eager tremblings. 

As love comes to the beauteous grave of love, 

36 



And calls love forth, and loudly calls her name, 
And bids love rise, for he is not yet dead, 
So came he now, and as he neared the shrine. 
Where to his way was made, at each new step 
His spirit louder called the name of love. 
And feared least love should not arise again 
To greet him, — would not hear his ardent voice 
However he might call her back to life. 
Around the uplands bordering the plain 
He took his way, and reached the heights above 
The rugged cliff, where he might see below, 
Or hear the voices as they rose to him. 

What sound is that he hears ? What gentle tone 
Is creeping up to him? Tis like the hush 
That rises from the earth at even tide, 
Or like the cool damp of that peaceful pause 
The earth sends out at dew-fall. It is like 
The voice of some rare bird that was possessed 

37 



Of human soul, and unto him it seemed 

The soul was like to woman's, and the voice 

Like some sweet wonder fallen 'gainst the earth 

In taking flight from some more royal star. 

It ceases, then again as though the joy 

Of singing forth its life could not be stayed, 

The notes spring forth. Enraptured by the sound 

He pauses in his way to hear them creep 

Up and down, and weave themselves into 

A melody in which there seemed to hide 

The spirit of some all unuttered joy 

Flowing through the veins of human grief; 

As though some tender spirit had resolved 

Its joys and its griefs into a song, 

Which fed upon the soul that gave it forth. 

What does he hear? What wondrous tones are 
these ? 



38 



Who sounds these notes, — these that no man shall 

find, — 
That none shall waken save the gods that hold 
Man just so much below them in the scale? 

Now it came to him that some wanderer 

Had likely passed that way, and so had stopped 

And played to those below, as he once played. 

As he once strove to play, but who played now 

Possessed a power beyond that which he knew. 

And drew a magic from the realm of tone 

He had not made to sound. Where had he failed ? 

Could he have sounded thus the hidden notes 
As yon sweet player does, would not her ears 
Have heard their fill of what they longed to hear 
Yet heard not? Might there not have been in him 
Some lack that held the music of his soul 
From reaching hers ; or might there not have been 
Some mute that muffled what he strove to sound ? 

39 



He pushed his way ahead down through the crags 
Until he reached the rocky precipice 
About the cave. Still nearer did he draw 
So that the stars might light for him the group 
That there were clustered. Nearer, nearer still, 
That he might see the player, who he was, 
And might behold her, were she also there. 
And mark how she would listen, if the strain 
Should reach her as did his so long ago. 
Softly he creeps so near that should he part 
The herbage that concealed him he would stand 
Plainly before them. What is this he hears? 
The light laugh of a child, some tender voice 
And sound of little kisses like to those 
The mother gently leaves upon her babe 
For fear of bruising it with too much love. 
He gazes forth. 

The mother's lips have now 
From kisses back to music found their way. 

40 



Music, that is love searching for a word, — 
And in her lap uplooked the little word ; 
The only word that love was meant to speak — 
Love that is silent and must fail of words. 

Note after note unwound her melody, 
As human bodies might unroll themselves 
Like mummy cloths and let the soul stand out, 
That if the next soul chanced to pass that way 
They should behold and know each other there. 
So stood she as the soul, and so he saw 
As he had never seen her in the past, 
As he had never known she could be seen. 

V ^ 'If ^ ^ ov TfP 

Whose arm was it that now encircled her 

With tender holding? Well she knew the touch 

Its gentle pressure gave, and silently 

She let herself recline into its hold. 

And bound that loving arm about her waist 



As 'twere girdle of her womanhood. 

*' Hast thou returned?'' ^^ Hast thou come back 

indeed?" 
Thus murmured she as though she spoke in dreams 
Where some lost ecstacy had come to her 
And tempted her to trust it all were true. 

" I have come back," he answered, " I am here. 

But did not think to find what I have found. 

Thus planned I as I came to seek for thee ; 

I said unto myself along the way, 

* She will be like the dawn that night has taught 

What day caused to forget, and when we meet 

I'll woo her soul to hear what mine would say 

And both shall break their silence with such song 

As once they knew.' But now I come to hear 

In thy sweet tuning what has been in me, 

What I prayed thee to hear, and thou, my bride. 



42 



Have given back myself to me in strains 
Such as I could not quite give out to thee. 
While I had sought that thou shouldst know me well 
And miss no depth of me, I was content 
To have thy love, meanwhile thy loving self 
Went undiscovered. Now how much I find. 
How well I know how thou hast fathomed me 
Since what I failed to make thee understand 
Thou hast discovered in thine own wise way. 
And caused me to behold.'* 

Then spoke the sage 
*' I have not known the bliss of human love, 
I have not mingled with the heart of man, 
And never woman shared her thought with mine ; 
But I touch souls with God and so may grasp 
The same truth that is law of love and earth. 

To know of God as we should know of him 
Sorrow must be our guide as well as joy. 

43 



As day to day gives speech, so it is writ 

The night to night conferreth knowledge. It 

Was sweet to dream thine hours in the arms 

Of each one's own desired, sweet it was 

And blissful to be near the one that held 

Thine utmost joy, but pleasure throws, unseen, 

Many a veil about the sight of those 

Reclining on her bosom, turns their eyes 

To view herself and lose the vision of 

That object which had led them into joy. 

So thou didst in the first reveal thyself 

Most wholly to the sight of thy beloved, 

And she with ardent, eager vision saw 

The beautiful and god-like part of thee. 

Then came the pause. Then love endured the bliss, 

Yes, the excess of bliss that held thee from 

The higher flights thy two souls might have found. 

The form and form, the touch, the look of each, 

The word, the presence made up what would be 



Content to each. Like to those men who place 
False idols up and bow to worship them, 
And bring them incense and all precious gifts 
As offering, is he who from love's self, 
Which is a spirit, turns and seeks to find 
His quest wrapt in the flesh, — like he who turns 
Away from touch of souls to touch of lips 
And is content to kiss the form he holds 
Nor seeks the surer, more eternal source. 
Fail thou didst to hold what thou had won 
And went away, then sorrow fell upon 
The soul of her you left, and through the night 
That reached between thy going and return, 
She grew to find the deeper source of life. 
And through her sorrow she found power to rise 
Into the knowledge of one step beyond 
Where thou hadst left her. 

Then there came a joy. 
In grief she bore this little child. Behold ! 

45 



How it would pluck the stars as though they were 
Like love and heaven so very near to it. 
This was the joy that taught her in a way 
No other joy could teach, what was the depth 
Of human happiness. Here lay the two, — 
The greatest sorrow is the loss of love. 
The greatest joy a woman's soul can know 
Lies in her child, and so again she rose 
Gaining the second step, and now she stood 
With understanding of the two great keys 
Of joy and sorrow, two that hold the sum 
Of human life. Thou hast returned to her 
And find her playing to the wondering babe 
What she had failed to understand from thee. 
Tis well thou comest." 

Then he took the babe 
And let it push its palms into his eyes, 
And who may tell what it awoke in him 
To feel their warmth. 

46 



In silence sat the twain. 
Only the little leaves stirred in their sleep, 
And sound of trees that in the upper air 
Leant cheek to cheek. High in the zenith shone 
The seven soft stars of the Pleiades. 



THE END. 



^l^e Que^t of tl^e SekutiM. 



I feel the song I cannot sing, 
I hear the strain I cannot write, 

I see the flight I may not wing 
Through the dark night. 

II. 

There are long poems I cannot pen. 
Great apprehensions through me move, 

And my dumb being, without voice 
Pours out its love. 



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III. 

Rapturous is the kiss 

When Idea meeteth Form, 

From such love as this 
All earth's art is born. 

IV. 

In the scratch of pens, 

In the lap of brushes. 
What tremendous ecstacy 

As thought to substance rushes. 



From the master's spirit 

Art's great works are springing, 
We may hear it, see it, — 

In his heart the clinging. 



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VI. 

We may have his song, 

But much shall be missing ; 

We may read his love, — 
In his heart the kissing. 



VII. 

Something is strangely appealing, 
Something is lovingly near. 

Its pulse I am almost feeling — 
Its voice I can almost hear, 

VIII. 

Forever and ever appealing 
Till I bring forth in some way, 

All the wondrous truths and revealings 
That rise up in me today. 

«1 



IX. 

The beautiful dream hangs low 

Like the veil o'er a saintly shadow, 

And the life I feel and know 

Is like August throbbing in meadows. 

X. 

The yearning, the longing has fled, 
I can sense the breath of the day, 

While I am surrounded and led 
Aloft by thoughts that pray. 

XI. 

Around me the voices of flowers. 

Before me lies unfurled 
The glint and the glamour and sunshine 

Of poes'y glory world. 

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XII. 
And over my day there settles 

As over a young god's youth 
The glow of that after-world 

That lies between us and truth. 



XIII. 

What bids me leap forth to the world, 

What fills me full of song? 
I ne'er have felt such power nor known 

That I could grow so strong. 

XIV. 

Is inspiration flowing in 

And bidding me to speak, 
Or is my soul just bursting forth 

Forgetting I am weak? 

58 



XV. 
I know the infinite rapture, 

I cling to eternity, 
Till the stars in their deep abysses. 

See down the abyss of me. 

XVI. 
Press my lips on the lips of heaven 

And gaze in the suns that role. 
Till I thrill with the joy of the angels 

And throb with the first great soul. 

XVII. 
My spirit has lost its bondage, 

And rising from its clod 
It trembles through the heavens 

And copies the thoughts of God. 



54 



XVIII. 

Man stands as the great God 

Stands back of all glorious things, 

Not the poem, the painting, the song. 

But the truth which they word, paint or sing. 

XIX. 

Not the moon, nor the dew, nor the stars, 
The flow'rs, the wood, nor the river, 

Nor any beautiful thing 

Is God, but he is their giver. 

XX. 

The beauty lies not in the work 

But deep in the heart that divined it. 

The world is so very fair 

Because God is standing behind it. 

05 



XXI. 

Beauty touches the soul 

Because it is born of feeling, 
Some soul was striving to speak , 

And the work was the soul's revealing. 

XXII. 
For all souls were born in beauty 

Nor lose they the sense of their starting, 
Forever it glideth with them. 

Forever their birth is imparting. 

XXIII. 
A light o'er the objects they pass 

That adds to the radiance of it ; 
A knowledge of something in us 

That is one with the beauty we covet. 



56 



XXIV. 

The Eternal Good is in man 

The semblance, the form is without ; 
Art is the being of man 

Everywhere searching about. 

XXV. 

For color and form and tone, 

Feeling what body expresses 
In all its movements and beauty. 

Its grandeur and grace so much less is 

XXVI. 

Than what man would have man to say, 
Than what man would show unto man. 

He seeketh some means to portray 

What he feels of God's wonderful plan. 

67 



XXVII. 

And man's deep joy in beauty 

Springs forth from the beauty in him, 

The eternal and endless beauty 
Which no change cometh to dim. 

XXVIII. 

The beauty throughout the earth 

In nature's perfect plan, 
And every delightful worth 

Are rays shot forth from man. 



XXIX. 

We read of the word-made flesh 
In which God's spirit stirred, 

But we never shall read man right 
Till the flesh has become th^ word. 

58 



XXX. 

The sum of all beauty lies 

In the glow of a pure woman's love 
For the love of a woman on earth 

Is the blessing of Mary above. 



XXXI. 

And this beauty, that beauty, all beauty, 
Dissect it, explain it who can? 

There is no measure of nature, 
The earth is the mirror of man. 

XXXII. 

All that is found in art 

Is found in the human soul. 
The songs of the human heart 

Are weaving through its whole. 

59 



XXXIII. 

The tender growing of green, 
The passion and fire of red, 

The quiet hush of the blue 
When poppy time is dead. 



XXXIV. 

The anxious and restless yellow 
Leading its unending quest, 

Striving, forever striving. 

Yearning and leading for rest. 

XXXV. 

Forever and ever searching 
In a long and endless flight. 

Seeking for truth, not knowing 
It holds its own golden light. 

60 



XXXVI. 

The discord that waits to find peace, 
The one note that yearns o*er the rest 

Waiting one under to sound 

That it may repose on its breast. 

XXXVII. 

The fire repelling us from 

The blue arch we seek to enter, 

Ever the nearer to draw 
Into its infinite centre. 

XXXVIII. 

So sings each soul away. 

And the secrets it would be concealing, 
To the eye to the ear each day 

Art and nature are ever revealing. 



61 



XXXIX. 

Give me of dark death and dying, 
Till dying and death be done, 

Till the lives through which I am flying 
Shall bring life's victory won ! 

XL. 

On through the sleeping and waking, 
The round of giving and taking. 
Whence we have come not knowing. 
Still toward the beautiful going, 
Out of the wonderful past. 
Out of the ages vast. 
Into eternal youth. 
On to the dawn of truth. 

XLI. 
Give me of dark death and dying 

Till dying and death be done ; 
Till the little lives I am living 

Merge into the Infinite One. 

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